I'm a nice person. I'm a pleasant person. And on my days off, I'm actually a happy person. If you pay me reasonably and don't interrupt my work, I can even be a happy person when I'm stuck in the office working overtime. But right now, I am not happy. What this bitch does to these companies should be fucking criminal.
She has only two superiors, as both companies are owned by a pair of brothers; John and Charlie. John and Charlie are rarely here, and prefer to just reap the benefits of business ownership. So Tammy is in charge. Woe unto the hopeless workers.
This week John and Charlie are further away than normal; They're off training on some personal project or what the fuck ever in Virginia. Plans are underway to migrate the company over to an entirely new order entry system. Tammy has a brilliant idea. With J&C both out of the picture she charges like the cackling hyena she is - quickly making plans to not only purchase the new system, but also rip out the existing network backbone that's been in place for fifteen years and put in a new one. Because the contractor said it would be more secure. And more security earns her brownie points with John and Charlie. So she took the week off on vacation time while three layers of sub-contractors came in to do the work.
Monday, the old network was torn down and completely gutted. Some thirty-odd sales and customer service personnel (myself included) sat around and twiddled our thumbs, having no means of actually handling customers all. fucking. day.
Tuesday the infrastructure was, by and large, operational once more. We had basic order entry capabilities on the old system, no less but no internet access to speak of. No email, and the fax lines were somehow garbled in the process. A grand "Verily, what the fuck?" feeling permeated the office. All day, no internet, no faxes.
This morning the fax lines were working again, the old order system was still around, and the network was stable. After a five minute outage it was announced through unofficial channels that internet access had been restored. Almost. We now have to connect through proxy servers. Thirty computer illiterate salesmen, and myself. Oh god the pain. A call went out to Tammy through the senior sales manager once I realized that I had not been informed of any proxy settings or logins with which to get everyone set up. I wish I had been taking notes, but I was too busy crying while the speakerphone was muted.
"Tammy, what are the proxy settings? Who do I call to get the logins?"
"Proxy? I don't have a proxy server. I can get on fine."
"Tammy.. you're at home, we're at the office."
"Yeah! There's no proxy server."
At this point I realized I was doomed. I muted the receiver and cried into a napkin. Our conference phone is in the kitchen, for whatever reason. That's another Tammy story for another day.
After an hour and a half of staring at the logon prompts and futily trying all conventional forms of administrator passwords, inspiration struck. "Tammy is quite the fool, Self, but surely.. No, it cannot be. No one is so incredibly inept." To my horror, it worked.
After another bout of crying, I sat down on the floor and hid under my desk. I'll worry about configuring mIRC and Trillian for a proxy later. For now, I just want to die.
It's not something people hear about.
quote:
Lashanna Model 2000 was programmed to say:
I'm sorry about how horrible this stuff is, but atleast you narrate your rants in such a way that they're utterly hilarious...
Just for you, babe.
And an update on the situation: I've gained 19 stars in Super Mario 64 DS in the past few hours. Luigi is the fucking man with his high-jump abilities, but I've gotten myself sort of stuck at the moment. Can anyone remember how to get the poles to appear in Pole Jumping for Red Coins, on the second 'Boss' level? The one with the submarine.
I think I may have done a little work earlier, but I also got The Zombie Survival Guide, so I've been distracted.
It's not something people hear about.
quote:
Sean had this to say about Punky Brewster:
I'm a nice person. I'm a pleasant person.
haha
) You would also get a free gift out of it.
The knowledge I have gained from that book is priceless. I will be capable of out-living a small scale zombie attack should it occur because of this book!
After acquiring a total twenty two stars in Super Mario 64, I began to grow annoyed with the situation at hand. The DS's superior stereo sound was echoing almost uncomfortably off the bathroom walls, giving a haunting echo to every 'Yip!' 'Yay!' and 'Wahooo!' of the green-clad Italian plumber assistant I sent rocketing through the air. I performed the insignificant tasks of saving my game, switching off the modern marvel of handheld gaming technology, and exited quietly from the restroom. I was sweating as if I'd just dropped the mother of all excrements down the porcelain tube, but in truth the air conditioning had been broken for months, and I'd been sitting there for just shy of an hour.
File transfer and meaningless gossip on the mind, I had but one mission; Infiltrate the server room by any means necessary.
Luckily for our hero the aforementioned server room was, in fact, only a broom closet guarded by a singular "No Entry Without Tammy's Permission" hanging sign. It put up little resistance to being ripped from the door and hurled towards the nearest trash recepticle. My kill count was off to a glorious count of 1. The Apacer flashdrive stirred nervously in its holster, a warning of things to come.
Minutes passed by like minutes, seconds like sixtieths of minutes, as I flung a bevy of ping and tracert commands at the unsuspecting computer console. The purring beast crumbled beneath my onslaught, and eventually raised the white flag. 192.168.2.14 was the solution to one of my problems; an address that whispered promises of delights to come. Two more questions lingered in the air, two that this piece of damaged goods could never answer for me. What were the DNS servers?
Nate. Nathan. Good ole' Nate. He'd know, and if he didn't, he sure could tell me who did. He just needed a little bit of 'persuasion'. My hand leapt into action - digging past wadded up Taco Bell and QuikTrip receipts, burrowing into the deepest corner of my jacket pocket - and there it was; LG1300. Sweet little Lara Grayson. She was the prettiest little thing I'd ever seen. Clamshell like you couldn't believe, beautiful backlit screen and buttons. She whistled that tune to The Good, The Bad and The Ugly when she wanted to play.
Something buzzed on the other side of the door as soon as I hit Send. It buzzed twice more, but not fast enough to beat the pounding in my chest or the adrenaline-powered breaths of excitement that shot steam in the chilled room.
"Yeah?" came Nate's voice as the door opened. He was right there, he'd caught me. I'd been spotted. My fission was mailed unless I could take him out before he called for backup. I didn't have any weapons on me, curse my luck! My knives both sat at my desk, Lara was in the open, she was useless once already spotted. But even unarmed, I'm more dangerous than a nesting eagle.
"You need something, Sean?" he asked again. My heart pounded, my palms poured their salty sweat like a faucet.
"What're the primary and alt. DNS servers?" I demanded, leaning forward to pressure him with my bulk.
"Sixty-nine dot two-thirty-eight dot ninety-dix dot twelve, and dot thirteen. Why?" he shot back. I'd gotten the answers, but he wasn't afraid. Without the element of surprise, it rarely worked. These guys had dealt with my type before, but I was made to break molds.
"Cool, thanks. LAN party still on for the 2nd?" I stalled. He couldn't know my true purpose for the intrusion.
"Yeah. Max's place at nine. Gonna be there?" He was on to my ruse. I was in trouble.
"Definitely." I shot back. The hammer fell, the pin hit the primer, and I was off like a bullet. Nate was hit by ejecting brass; or - in reality - the door stubbed his toe as I left.
The momentary pain distracted him long enough for me to make my escape. Two halls over, three offices to the right; Salvation. I slammed the door shut and eased off the lights, concealed in the shadows of my own office that I knew so well.
It's not something people hear about.
quote:
The logic train ran off the tracks when JooJooFlop said:
I don't think I've ever known a Tammy I didn't hate.
Love you too babe.
quote:
Abbikat had this to say about Matthew Broderick:
Love you too babe.
You're a Tammy?
Wow.
Wait, do you insist on being called Tammy or is that just something some people call you?
management.
